


The Mischievous Boy and The Time Traveling Fairies

by HappyJuicyfruit



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski, Fae & Fairies, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Kid Fic, M/M, Sterek Bingo 2019, Stilinski Family Feels, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 17:18:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19024414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyJuicyfruit/pseuds/HappyJuicyfruit
Summary: “Daddy!” Mischief screamed, reaching out blindly. He was falling through air, his eyes squeezed shut and then -Then he was landing in a pair of strong, warm, arms. “Daddy!” Mischief buried his face into his fathers chest. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have climbed the tree!”“Um…” A voice said above him. Not his dad’s voice. Mischief pulled back, and then his eyes widened in alarm.  The man holding him was not his dad. It was some sort of strange, bearded, lumberjack! “Stiles?”“Yeah?” Another voice called back. Mischief turned to see another man walking up, this one was wearing plaid. Was he a lumberjack, too? “Oh. Oh.” The man stepped right up into Mischief's space. “Oh shit.”





	The Mischievous Boy and The Time Traveling Fairies

**Author's Note:**

> Last fic for Sterek Bingo! I had hoped to do two more of these, but I just don't have the time :( 
> 
> This one is a bit different from the others I posted this month. More angsty, but there is still fluff in there for ya!   
> Thanks for reading everyone, I hope you like it :) 
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings: There is a lot of talk about death/grief/mourning.

 

Mischief sat curled with his back against the trees bark, watching as the wind moved his tire swing back and forth. It was getting dark, and he knew he was supposed to go inside soon, but he- he didn’t want to. 

 

He couldn’t go inside yet. Not after Daddy had told him…

 

Mischief shook his head, angrily rubbing his tears away. He had to be strong. Daddy said he had to be strong for Mommy, and he would be. He  _ would _ be! Mommy needed him. But he needed to stop crying first. 

 

He wiped the tears away again and stood up, stomping further into the forest. Mommy always took him for a walk when he couldn’t calm down. He could still do that, even when she was in the hospital. He would go back inside when he was calm again. Just like he did with Mommy. 

 

He only made it a few steps before he saw the light. Twinkling, purple lights, floating by a branch of one of the tall trees he wasn’t allowed to climb without Daddy around. Mischief looked around. No one else was here. He cocked his head and squinted up at the lights. 

They twinkled back at him. 

 

Daddy had made those rules when Mischief was five, and he was  _ seven _ now. He was sure he could climb the tree and get back down by himself. He was a big kid, he climbed trees like this all the time at recess. 

 

And the lights looked really cool. Mischief thought maybe they were from a type of bug. Like a firefly, but purple. Maybe he was discovering a new species! That meant he got to name it. Scientists got to name things they discovered. 

 

Pulling back his sleeves, Mischief grabbed onto the lowest branch. He pulled himself up, and reached for the next one. He climbed and climbed, eyes on the purple lights above him. 

 

If they were a new type of bug he was just now discovering, Mischief had the perfect name: Claudia Mischievous. For him and his mom. Mommy would be so proud of him, she always said he was going to be a famous scientist one day. He asked too many questions not to be, she said. He was always looking for the answers. 

 

Mischief sniffed. Snot was running out of his nose, and he licked it off his top lip. 

 

He was almost at the lights. 

 

Suddenly, the lights moved. They were hovering in a circle one second, and flying towards him the next. Mischief jerked back, surprised, and let out a shout when his hold on the branch slipped. The bark scratched his palms and he lost his hold, falling right off the branch. 

 

“Daddy!” Mischief screamed, reaching out blindly. He was falling through air, his eyes squeezed shut and then - 

 

Then he was landing in a pair of strong, warm, arms. “Daddy!” Mischief buried his face into his fathers chest. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have climbed the tree!” 

 

“Um…” A voice said above him. Not his dad’s voice. Mischief pulled back, and then his eyes widened in alarm.  The man holding him was not his dad. It was some sort of strange, bearded, lumberjack! “Stiles?” 

 

“Yeah?” Another voice called back. Mischief turned to see another man walking up, this one was wearing plaid. Was he a lumberjack, too? “Oh.  _ Oh _ .” The man stepped right up into Mischief's space. “Oh  _ shit _ .” 

 

Mischief's lip trembled. “You said a bad word.” Mischief whispered, before bursting into tears. 

 

\-- 

 

“Little Stiles, calm down, we aren’t going to hurt you,” The bearded man said, crouched in front of him. Mischief continued crying into his knees, he didn’t know what the man was talking about. 

 

“Shit, that’s not my name yet,” the plaid man said. He sweared a lot. 

 

“What do you mean, it’s not your name yet? It’s your name!” Bearded man said back. He sounded angry. 

 

“Just- shut up,” plaid man pushed the other guy away, until he was squatted in front of Mischief. “Mischief, hey buddy, it’s okay. You’re safe here, Mischief, it’s okay.” 

 

Mischief raised his head, licking the snot off his lip. “How do you know my name?” 

 

“Mischief is your real name?” Bearded man asked. 

 

“No,” Mischief said, at the same time as the man in front of him. Mischief didn’t like that, that was scary. “Who are you- how do you-” 

 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. My name is Stiles, and I’m… I’m a friend of your Mom’s.” The plaid man, Stiles, said. “This is my friend, Derek,” Stiles gestured towards the lumberjack, who stared down at Mischief with no expression. Mischief thought they both looked creepy. 

 

“If you’re a friend of Mommy’s, why have I never met you before?” 

 

For some reason, that made Derek laugh.“Wow, you haven’t changed much,” he said, smiling at Stiles. Stiles elbowed him in the stomach, which Mischief didn’t think he was allowed to do. Mommy and Daddy always told him to keep his hands to himself. 

 

“You shouldn’t elbow people,” Mischief told him, because someone had to. 

 

“Yeah, Stiles,” Derek said, grinning, “don’t elbow people.” 

 

“Derek, you are seriously not helping!” 

 

Derek and Stiles started fighting, and Mischief was suddenly not so afraid of them anymore. They bickered like his parents did, whenever one of them wanted to change the channel on the TV. 

 

Mischief wiped the rest of his tears and snot off his face and then he stood up. The two lumberjacks stopped fighting when Mischief tried to move around them. 

 

“Hey, where ya going kiddo?” Stiles asked. 

 

“Home.” 

 

“Right, uh, that’s a bit complicated buddy. You can’t go home just yet.” 

 

Mischief frowned, “why not?” 

 

“Uh, because,” Stiles looked at Derek, who shrugged, he looked back at Mischief. Then his eyes widened and he snapped his fingers, “because, your mom is in the hospital right now, right? And your dad is… your dad just had a talk with you tonight, right?” Stiles eyes looked as sad as Mischief felt. “A talk about your Mom, and what she’s doing in the hospital.” 

 

Mischief felt his eyes sting. He didn’t know people could cry so much. “Yeah.” 

 

“Okay, well, that’s why you’ve never met me before. I know your Mom and Dad, but I’m not really from around… where you’re from,” Stiles scrunched his nose up, like he was confusing himself as much as he was confusing Mischief. “But they called me in to help look after you for a few days. And then you can go home again, okay? And go see your mom.” 

 

Mischief narrowed his eyes, “Daddy said I shouldn’t ever go home with a stranger. You could murder or molest me!” 

 

“Of course,” Derek whispered beside them. “What if we got your dad on the phone and had him tell you it’s okay?” 

 

Mischief bit his lip, unsure. “Daddy’s at home though, it’s just right there,” he pointed through the trees. He could see his house from here, if he stretched up on his toes. “See? It’s the green one on- wait, why does it look blue-” 

 

“Your dad had to go into the hospital,” Stiles pulled him back, “he sent us out here to look for you.” 

 

Mischief bit his lip, feeling unsure. Daddy left him with these people? Without telling him first? That didn’t seem like his dad… but Daddy had been acting different, lately. 

 

Derek stood up, a phone pressed to his ear. Mischief watched him go with nervous eyes. 

 

“Hey, kiddo, it’s okay. We’ll take real good care of you,” Stiles said. 

 

Mischief looked Stiles up and down, and realized he did kind of look familiar. He kind of looked like Mommy, with her freckles and thick brown hair. Mischief liked to think he would be as pretty as Mommy someday. She was the prettiest lady in the whole world. 

 

“Are you related to my Mommy?” Mischief asked. 

 

“Uhh.” 

 

“You look like her, which means you kind of look like me!” 

 

“Yeah, right... I’m her cousin. From Poland.” 

 

“Do you speak Polish?” 

 

Stiles said a bunch of words that sounded like Polish, and Mischief smiled. “I’m going to learn Polish too! Mommy said-” Mischief cut himself off. Now that Mommy was in the hospital, he probably wouldn’t be learning Polish anytime soon. 

 

“Don’t worry, buddy, I’m sure you’ll learn Polish someday,” Stiles gave him a knowing smile. Mischief frowned at him, confused again. 

 

Derek crouched down beside him before he could figure out what Stiles meant. “Here Mischief, your dad wants to talk to you,” Derek held out the phone and Mischief grabbed it quickly, pressing it against his ear. 

 

“Daddy?” 

 

“Hey, kiddo,” his father’s voice came through the other end, and it soothed him. “How you doing? You okay?” 

 

Mischief sniffed, “Daddy, I want to go home. I cut my hand, and there are two lumberjacks who say they know you, but I’ve never met them before and-”

 

“Hey, hey, hush now everything’s okay. I do know Stiles and Derek, and I trust them. You can trust them too.” 

 

Mischief sniffed, still feeling unsure. 

 

“What happened to your hand, buddy? Did you fall?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Okay, you tell Stiles that. He’ll wrap it up for you.” 

 

“Okay,” Mischief kicked the leaves around his feet. He wanted his dad to come get him, he didn’t want to spend a few days with strangers. “Daddy, I want to go home.”

 

“I know sweetheart, but you can’t go home right now. I’m sorry I had to leave without saying goodbye but the hospital called and…I’ll be staying here for a few days, okay? You stay with Stiles and Derek, they’ll look after you.” 

 

“You’ll call every day?” 

 

“Every day.”

 

“Can I talk to Mommy?” 

 

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and then his dad cleared his throat. “Not right now buddy, I’m sorry. She’s asleep.” 

 

“Okay…” 

 

“You go have fun with Stiles and Derek, okay? I love you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

 

“Okay, Daddy. I love you too.” 

 

“Pass the phone to Stiles for me?” 

 

Mischief handed the phone over, before turning back to kicking at the leaves. Stiles and Daddy didn’t talk for long before Stiles was crouching down in front of Mischief again, his expression serious. 

 

“Okay bud, I’m going to go get you a few things for Derek’s house, and you’re going to go with Derek and get settled at his apartment, okay? I’ll meet you there with dinner. Pizza? Does that sound good?” 

 

Mischief pushed his toe through the dirt, “I guess.” 

 

“Okay.” Stiles reached over and ruffled his hair his dad always did. Mischief allowed it, but he didn’t look up from his shoes. 

 

Stiles and Derek talked for a minute, and then Stiles was walking away, towards Mischiefs house. It was stupid that Mischief wasn’t going with him. 

 

“Ready?” Derek asked. Mischief nodded. Derek started walking down a path that he knew lead to the road. He followed behind him slowly. 

 

“Is he going to remember my toothbrush?” 

 

“Yes, you’ll have a toothbrush.” 

 

“But  _ my _ toothbrush? My toothbrush looks like Batman.” 

 

“Of course it does,” Derek sighed, “I don’t know, but you’ll have a toothbrush.” 

 

Mischief didn’t like that answer. “What about my pajamas? And my pillow?” 

 

Derek stopped walking, so Mischief did too. They stared at each other for a moment before Derek squatted down and gave him a hard look. “I know this is hard for you Mischief, but Stiles is going to do the best he can. It’s not going to be perfect, but you’ll have everything you need tonight, okay? You don’t have to worry.” 

 

Mischief curled his fingers together, feeling nervous. He had only ever slept over at Scotty’s before, and even then Mommy and Daddy were always a phone call away. What if he couldn’t sleep? What if Derek’s house made scary noises? 

 

What if something happened to Mommy, and they forgot to tell him about it because he wasn’t at home? 

 

A large hand reached out and covered his own. Mischief twisted his hands around until they were curled around Derek’s. It made him feel a bit better. 

 

“Everything’s going to be fine, Mischief. I promise. Nothing bad’s going to happen when I’m around.” 

 

Mischief believed him. Derek was so serious, and so calm, he must know what he was talking about. He nodded and gave Derek a little smile. Derek smiled back. 

 

The two of them continued the walk down the path, hand in hand.

 

\-- 

 

Derek’s house wasn’t a house. Stiles had called it an apartment, but it wasn’t an apartment either. It was a giant, grey, room with nothing in it! 

 

Derek lead him to the bathroom first thing and set him up on the toilet. He wiped the dirt off Mischiefs hands and cheek, and pulled out a few bandaids for the scraps he had got from the trees. 

 

“Mommy puts antibacterial cream on my cuts,” Mischief told him. “In case of infection.” 

 

Derek raised an eyebrow after he said the word antibacterial. It was a pretty big word, maybe he didn’t know it. 

 

“Antibacterial means-” 

 

“I know what it means,” Derek huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. He reached into his first aid kit again and pulled out a bottle. Mischief squeezed his eyes shut when he popped it open. “What’s wrong?” 

 

“Sometimes it stings.” 

 

“This won’t sting,” Derek said, and he was right. The cream was cool on his palm, and then the band aids were put on. 

 

When he was done he took Stiles hand and lead him back out into the apartment. He sat down on a couch, beside a coffee table and an armchair.  Behind it there was a kitchen table, with four chairs around that, and beside that was a bed. 

 

That was it, that was all there was. 

 

“Your house is humongous, but you don’t have anything in it!” 

 

“Humongous?” Derek asked, he sounded amused. 

 

Mischief nodded, “humongous means-” 

 

“I know what humongous means. Just- always assume I know what your words mean.” 

 

“Okay. My friend Scotty doesn’t always know what I’m saying.” Mischief told him. For some reason, that made Derek laugh. A lot. Mischief started to squirm on the couch, Derek was laughing so much. 

 

“Sorry, you’ll uh, understand when you’re older why I laughed at that.” 

 

Mischief frowned, he hated when adults said that to him. “I could understand now. I read a lot! I read the highest level in my whole class.” 

 

“Yeah, I can tell,” Derek grinned at him. “Even higher than Lydia Martin?” 

 

Mischiefs frown deepened, “who?” 

 

“Lydia- you don’t know Lydia?” 

 

“No,” Mischief looked at the man like he was crazy, “do you know a lot of seven year old girls?” 

 

“No! I don’t know any, Lydia is Stiles age.” 

 

“Then why-” 

 

Derek stood up, “do you want a drink? Water?” 

 

“Uh, sure. Please.” Mischief bit his lip. Derek looked upset now, and Mischief didn’t know why.  Derek came back a moment later though with two glasses of water, and his face calm again. 

 

They sat in silence, sipping their water. Mischief hated it. “Do you have a TV?” 

 

“Upstairs.” 

 

“Why not downstairs?” 

 

“Because otherwise my pac-people, my friends,” Derek’s brows were down, he looked mad again, “would play video games all day long, if it was down here.” 

 

“What’s wrong with that?” 

 

Derek rolled his eyes, “you can’t play video games all day. You need to do stuff, talk to people, go outside!” 

 

Mischief laughed, “you sound like my dad.” 

 

Derek groaned, “I’ve been told.” 

 

Despite what he said, he did lead Mischief upstairs. Mischief gapped at the TV and the video game consoles on the floor. “I’ve never seen this before! Is this a Playstation? How big is your TV? What are all these games?!” 

 

“Uh, I think it’s a PS4.” 

 

“There are  _ four _ Playstations?! I didn’t know that, all I have is a Gamecube!” 

 

Derek cleared this throat, “well, you can play Playstation when you’re older.” 

 

Mischief wasn’t listening, he was too busy looking at all the games.  _ Call of Duty, Halo, Assassin’s Creed, God of War! _ “These all look so cool! Can we play now?” 

 

“Um… I don’t think- hey, I think I hear Stiles downstairs, we should go down.” 

 

Mischief kept looking through the games, “I didn’t hear anything.” He picked one up, flipped it over to read the back. “Hey, this game says it was made in 2018- hey!” 

 

Derek grabbed all of the games out of Mischief’s hands, dumping them onto one of the chairs before grabbing Mischief around the waist. “Come on, pizza’s here.” 

 

“Put me down!” Mischief tried to wiggle free, but Derek was strong. Even stronger than Daddy! He didn’t even flinch when Mischief kicked at him. He gave up halfway down the stairs. “This is stupid! Stiles isn’t even here yet!” 

 

“Yes, he is.” Derek was calmly grabbing plates from the cupboard, holding Mischief under one arm like he was an annoying dog. How strong was this guy? Was he actually a lumberjack? 

 

“Derek, are you a lumberjack?” Mischief asked, his anger completely forgotten. 

 

Derek breathed out a laugh, “you’re lucky I’m used to this, or I’d have whiplash right now.” 

 

“Used to what?” 

 

“Used to you- nevermind. No, I’m not a lumberjack.” 

 

“You’re really strong like a lumberjack. And you have a beard.” 

 

Derek placed him down on the floor beside the kitchen counter, “why does having a beard make me a lumberjack?” 

 

Mischief shrugged. The door to the loft opened up behind them, and he turned, smiling when he saw Stiles. “Stiles! Did you get my toothbrush? And my pillow? What about my pajamas- what kind of pizza did you get?” Mischief was bouncing on his toes, trying to look into one of the three bags Stiles was holding. When he tried to grab onto one to pull lower, Derek picked him up again. “Hey, no fair!” 

 

“And here I had thought you were bad,” Derek said to Stiles. He looked relieved to see him. Mischief pouted. 

 

“Feel bad for my dad yet?” Stiles asked. 

 

Derek snorted, “yet? I felt bad for him the day I met you.” 

 

Stiles dropped a bag to grabbed at his chest dramatically, “ouch.” 

 

“Dereeekkk,” Mischief whined, wiggling to get down again. Derek did put him down this time, but kept a hand on his shoulder. 

 

“Eat first, we’ll worry about your stuff after.” Derek said, steering him towards the kitchen. 

 

“Fine!” 

 

Stiles trailed behind them, the bag with pizzas in it in his hands. “Alright, I got Hawaiian, I got cheese with black olives and bacon, and I got meat lovers with added mushrooms and spinach.” 

 

Mischief wrinkled his nose at that last one, but still hopped up and down at the first two. “Black olives and bacon is my favorite!” 

 

“I know, kiddo,” Stiles smiled at him, already filling a plate up for Mischief. 

 

“How did you know?” 

 

“Uh, your dad. Anyway, here you go, go sit on the couch. Derek and I will be there in a second.”

 

Mischief obeyed, taking the pizza and shoving one in his mouth as soon as he sat down. He leaned back and listened in to what the two of them were talking about in the kitchen though, since obviously there were talking about  _ something _ that he had to eavesdrop on. 

 

“So, I’m, uh, gonna need another day or two to figure this out.” He heard Stiles whispered. 

 

“A day or  _ two _ ?” Derek asked. 

 

“Well, from what I remember, it’s more like two… and I spent most of my time with you. Alone.” 

 

“What.” 

 

“You’re good with him, and it’s not like I can bring him around with me! I’m going between Deaton’s and the Sheriff’s department, Derek. He’s going to figure out that this isn’t - you know,  _ his time _ , if I bring him with me.” 

 

Mischief frowned around his food. He thought they were talking about him, but now he was confused. What did his time mean? 

 

Derek sighed. “Fine, whatever. You do remember this, though? This is you and not, I don’t know, another dimensional version of you or whatever. He didn’t know who Lydia was.” 

 

“I didn’t meet Lydia until third grade, it’s before her time… this is definitely me. I remember it, but it was like a dream. I was here for two nights, but then I woke up and it was like it had never happened?” Stiles paused for a second, and Mischief leaned back farther, tilting his had to catch it all. Even if he had no idea what they were talking about. “I guess that’s my first clue for what this is. I think there were also bugs involved, somehow.” 

 

“Bugs?” Mischief could understand Derek’s confusion. He didn’t know what Stiles was talking about either. 

 

“I don’t know,” Stiles groaned, “we’ll talk in the morning, okay? Let’s just get Mischief settled in for now.”

 

Mischief sank low into the couch and focused on the pizza when he heard his name. Stiles and Derek came over not long after, both with their own plates of pizza. They both tried to talk to him about how how he was feeling, but Mischief didn’t want to talk so much. Now that Stiles was back he was feeling uneasy again. 

 

Derek had been nice, when it was just the two of them, and Stiles was nice too but… Mischief didn’t know them. And he didn’t know this house. And he didn’t know what was going on with Mommy, and he didn’t know if Daddy was going to call him or if he was going to have to be the one to call and he didn’t have his pillow or his- 

 

“Hey,” a warm hand was on his shoulder, and Mischief looked up to find Derek staring down at him. “It’s okay, take a breath.” 

 

Stiles took Mischief’s empty plate out of his hands, both of them saying calming words until Mischief was feeling less scared about everything. 

 

“Stiles?” 

 

“Yeah, bud?”

 

“Will you tell me if anything happens to Mommy?” 

 

Stiles leaned back, he glanced at Derek for a second before putting on a smile. “Yeah, yeah of course. And you let me or Derek know if you need to talk to your dad, okay? He’s just a phone call away.” 

 

“He’s going to call me though, right?” Mischief twisted his shirt in his hands, “every night? To say goodnight?” 

 

“Yeah, yeah for sure, kiddo, I’ll make sure you talk to him every night before bed.” 

 

“Okay,” Mischief sniffed. “Did you get my pillow?” 

 

\-- 

 

Stiles brought Mischief  _ a _ pillow that kind of smelled like home, but it wasn’t  _ his _ pillow. He also brought him a boring old Spider-man toothbrush, but he did also bring a nightlight that was shaped as the bat signal. It looked cool, but Mischief insisted he didn’t need it. 

 

“Well, I’m going to plug it in right here anyways, okay? Cause I like it.” Stiles insisted, plugging it into the wall by the couch. 

 

Mischief was curled up in a sleeping bag with an extra blanket, and his kind of his pillow. He had already brushed his teeth with the boring toothbrush, and had his goodnight call with his dad. Stiles had even read a batman comic to him as a bedtime story, and Mischief was feeling pretty sleepy, even if it was strange being in this new place with new people. 

 

Derek and Stiles were also ready for bed, and told him they were going to be just on the other side of the room if he needed anything. 

 

“Are you sleeping together?” Mischief blinked up at him.

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Is Derek your husband?” 

 

Stiles froze, “um, no.” 

 

“But only Mommy and Daddy’s sleep together, cause they’re married.” 

 

“Well, sometimes, people sleep together without being married. Like your friend Tara, from your dad’s work. She has her person, Lindsay, sleepover and they aren’t married, right?” 

 

“Oh,” Mischief burrowed into the pillow. “Is Derek your boyfriend then?” 

 

“We haven’t really like, labeled it, but you know what- sure.” Stiles nodded, “Derek’s my boyfriend.” 

 

“You love him?” Mischief closed his eyes. 

 

“Yeah, I do. Now have sweet dreams, little buddy. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

 

“Night, Stiles.” 

 

“Good night, Mischief.” 

 

\-- 

 

Mischief woke up to the sound of talking. 

 

“I know I’m the one who figures it out, I just don’t remember what it is.” 

 

“Did know before, how you got sent back to your own time?”

 

“Not really. Something about everything being equal, and a debt repaid? That doesn’t make any sense though. Also, I’m pretty sure I just heard it from eavesdropping, no one actually told me anything. Which had been frustrating, but now I know why. I was so tiny!” 

 

There was a low grunting noise. It sounded weird. “With the world on your shoulders though. What’s going on right now, with your mom? Is this… the last time she went in?”

 

“Yeah, it’s only two weeks after this that she…” There’s a rustling noise, and then silence. Mischief peeked his eyes open and sat up, peering over the top of the couch. They were hugging, and Stiles looked sad. 

 

Was his mom sick too? 

 

“Mischief, hey bud, didn’t know you were up. Breakfast?” Stiles asked, pulling away from Derek. 

 

They gave Mischief a bowl of Froot Loops, and he sat on the couch again eating it as the two men watched him. 

 

“What?” he finally asked. 

 

“Um, Mischief,” Stiles leaned forward. “Do you know… do you remember what happened last night?” 

 

Mischief felt both of his eyebrows go high, “I came here?” 

 

“Right, right, yeah, before that? You fell out of a tree, into Derek. Do you remember what made you fall?” 

 

Mischief munched on his cereal for a second, and then his eyes widened, “I was discovering the Claudia Mischoulous!” Derek grabbed the bowl from his hand, grimacing when the milk spilled over his hand. Mischief barely noticed. 

 

“Discovering what?” Derek asked. 

 

“The purple fireflies!” Mischief cried, “I almost got to them before they flew right at me and made me fall! I’ll never find them now!” His eyes started to sting, like they had yesterday. Stiles had turned away from him though, and was on his phone muttering about leads. 

 

Mischief didn’t care about that at all. “I’m never going to be able to show them to Mommy,” he whimpered. 

 

A hand curled around his neck at the same time Stiles looked up, his face stricken. “Oh, kiddo, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think-” 

 

“It’s okay, Stiles, I got him.” 

 

Stiles looked at Derek, “you sure?” 

 

“Yeah. You go follow your leads. Mischief and I will have a day together,” Derek smiled down at him, and Mischief felt a bit better. 

 

Derek gave him a tissue before Mischief licked the snot off his lip this time. 

 

\-- 

 

Mischief stared out the window, sulking. Derek hadn’t believed him when he said his dad let him sit in the front seat all the time, which was stupid. No one could ever tell when he was lying before! 

 

“We’re almost there,” Derek said. Mischief sighed. Derek had said he was taking him somewhere special, and there was nothing but trees, trees and more trees! 

 

As he stared out of the window though, the trees started to clear, and Derek was soon pulling over and turning the car off. Mischief bounced out of the car as soon as they had rolled to a stop. 

 

They were in a large clearing in the middle of the woods, that had been transformed into a giant garden. There were flowers of every colour around, and in the middle of it all, a metal statue of… a family of wolves? 

 

“Derek, what is this place?” 

 

Derek didn’t answer, he held his hand out instead, and Mischief took it, confused. Derek pulled him forward, leading him to the statue of wolves. 

 

When they got there, Derek gave his hand a squeeze. “This is where I grew up.” 

 

“You grew up in a garden?” Mischief wrinkled his nose in confusion. “Where did you go to the bathroom?” 

 

“No, Mischief,” Derek huffed out a laugh. “Where you’re standing right now, that’s where my home used to be. We lived in a big, three story house, me and my family. But it’s gone now.” 

 

“What happened?” Mischief asked, looking around. He would never have known there had been a house here, it was completely gone. 

 

“There was a fire. The house burned down… with most of my family in it.” 

 

Mischief gasped, “where they okay?” 

 

“... no,” Derek sighed. He let go of Mischiefs hand and sat down in the grass, turned towards him this time. Mischief copied him. “A lot of my family died that night. My parents, my brother, my cousins… They were all gone. All I had left was my sister.” 

 

“How old were you?” 

 

“Sixteen.” 

 

Mischief bit his lip. He didn’t like this story. 

 

“I was angry, for a really long time. Angry, and hurt, but mostly… I was sad. I missed my family. I didn’t know how to move on from it. I didn’t think I would ever be happy again… until, one day, a really wise man told me to get my head out of my a- butt, and to look around.” Derek shook his head fondly. “He made me realize that I had made a new family, without even realizing it, and that I loved them just as much as I love my family. The anger faded away on its own, after that. I didn’t need it anymore.” 

 

Mischief’s lip trembled, “why are you telling me this?” 

 

“Because I want you to know that it’s okay. It’s okay to be angry, and sad, and hurt. It’s okay to spend a long time  _ not _ being okay. But you need to do it better than I did, cause I was a bit stupid. I cut everyone out, and it didn’t help anyone. Especially not me.” Derek’s eyes were serious as he looked down at him. “You’re not alone in this, Mischief, you have your dad. Your friend Scott, and his mom Melissa. You’re not alone, and if you ever feel like you are, lift your head up and look around. There will always be someone next to you, ready to help.” 

 

“Like you?” 

 

“Yeah,” Derek pulled him against his side, “I’ll be there… eventually.” 

 

“What does that mean?” 

 

“Nothing, I’ll be there.” 

 

Mischief sniffed, pressing his face against Derek’s side. “I get really mad at her, sometimes, for getting sick… I know it’s not her fault, but…I don’t want her to go.” 

 

Derek held him close as Mischief cried, his tears soaking in Derek’s T-Shirt. No one had let him do this before. His parents were always running to the next doctor’s appointment. Scotty was always trying to cheer him up. Mischief had been trying to be strong for so long… it was a relief to let it all go. 

 

When the tears finally stopped falling, Mischief leaned back. Derek helped him wipe all the tears and snot off his face with a tissue. 

 

“Hey Derek?” Mischief asked a few minutes later. 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Who was the wise man that told you to get your head out of your ass?” 

 

Derek snorted, “it was Stiles.” 

 

Mischief looked at him, surprised. “Stiles is wise?”

 

“Stiles is the smartest person I’ve ever met.” 

 

“Oh.” Maybe Stiles was cooler than he thought. Mischief turned back to look at the statue of the wolves, cocking his head. “Hey, Derek?”

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Why did you put a statue of wolves here for your family?” 

 

Derek turned to him with a grin, “that’s a story for another day.”

 

\-- 

  
  


Mischief was jumping around the counter when Stiles came in, arms full of papers. He raced to the man, and probably would have knocked him over had Derek not caught him around the middle. 

 

“I mistakenly gave him ice cream at seven.” Derek said, unbothered when Mischief tried to climb him instead of trying to get down. “And I let him add candy on top.” 

 

“Rookie mistake. Anything dyed red?” 

 

Derek sighed. Mischief managed to crawl on top of Derek’s head. Stiles laughed. 

 

“Okay, Mr. Energetic, it’s almost nine and do you know what that means?” 

 

“Nooo, I don’t want to go to bed!” Mischief cried. Derek grabbed him again and took him off his head, putting him on the ground. “Derek, let’s play lumberjacks!” 

 

“Lumberjacks?” Stiles laughed. “You do kind of look like a- not the point. Your dad is calling at nine, buddy! But you can only talk to him if you’re calm enough. Do you think you can manage it?” 

 

Mischief froze midstep. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. “I can try.” 

 

“Good boy, go brush your teeth, I’ll have your dad on the line when you come back.” 

 

Mischief ran to the bathroom. He changed into his pajamas and did his bathroom routine as quick as he could. He only paused for a before ripping the door open when he heard Stiles say, “we’ll do it tonight, after Mischief is asleep.” He didn’t pause for long though, cause it probably meant boring adult things. Mommy and Daddy always did boring adult things after he went to bed. Like watching the news and taking baths. 

 

On the phone Mischief told his dad all about his day with Derek. He told him about the park they went to. And the nachos they had for lunch. The arcade they went to after. The burgers they had for dinner. The video games Derek let him play at his house. The ice cream he got to have after dinner time. 

 

He didn’t tell his dad about the conversation he had with Derek though. That was just for him. 

 

“Is Mommy there?” 

 

“She’s sleeping again, kiddo. You know how much sleep she needs.” 

 

“Yeah…” 

 

“I’ll tell her you love her, okay?” 

 

“Okay.” 

 

“Alright, you ready for bed?” 

 

“Yep!” 

 

“Stiles and Derek are there to tuck you in?” 

 

Mischief glanced around, “they’re looking at a bunch of paper on the table.” 

 

“Must be for work. Don’t go snooping, okay kiddo? Be polite.” 

 

“Yes, Daddy.” 

 

“Okay. Good night Mischief, I love you.” 

“Night Daddy, love you!” 

 

Stiles walked over when he heard Mischief say goodbye, taking the phone to talk to his dad for a minute before coming back to tuck Mischief in. He could barely keep his eyes open long enough to watch Stiles turn on the night light. 

 

“Ice cream, it’s a hell of a drug.” Stiles said, laughing. Mischief didn’t know what that meant, but he was too tired to ask. 

 

\-- 

 

Mischief woke up to a purple glow coming from over the couch. He squinted his eyes, but was too tired to look. When he looked out the window it was still dark outside. 

 

“He helped you, in your grief?” A voice asked. It sounded strange, like it was an echo. Mischief buried his head more into his pillow. He just wanted to go back to sleep. 

 

“He did.” Derek answered the voice.

 

“He will help us, in ten years of your time,” the voice said. “This is a repayment for the both of us. Everything made equal.” 

 

“If it’s in ten years, how do you know I’ll help you?” Stiles asked. 

 

“Ten of your years,” the voice said. “We do not see time as rigidly as you do.” 

 

“Huh.” 

 

“So that’s it? You sent him here so I could… help him grieve?” Derek asked. “But his mother is still alive.” 

 

“Because of his talk with you, the boy will go to his father. His friend. He will still grieve, of course, but he will not be alone. He will not grow full of darkness. Any later than now, and it would have been too later. He would have grown angry, isolated. No one would have been able to reach him after that. You saved him, Derek. Just as he saved you.” 

 

There was silence after that. Mischief had almost drifted back to sleep when Stiles spoke again. 

 

“What happens now?” 

“Tomorrow, as the sun begins to set, we will send him back. He will remember bits of this and nothing more until the time comes do to it again.” 

 

“So that’s why I didn’t remember any of this until I saw him again. Timey wimey magic crap?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Stiles and Derek kept talking after that, but Mischief didn’t hear anything else. He was asleep. 

 

\-- 

 

Mischief woke up to the smell of pancakes. Stiles and Derek were already up and ready for the day, and Mischief was excited.  Yesterday had been fun, and he bet it was going to be the same again. 

 

He wasn’t disappointed. 

 

Stiles and Derek took him to a fair! It was a few towns over, he wasn’t entirely sure where, but there were rides, and games, and popcorn! Derek won Stiles a giant bear, and he won Mischief a squirt gun. He chased Stiles around with it until it ran out of water, and then kept chasing him anyway. 

 

It was really fun. 

 

When they got home, Stiles made spaghetti for dinner. It was almost exactly like his mom made it, and Mischief was surprised until he remembered that Stiles was her cousin. 

 

“Hey Stiles?” Mischief asked, pushing his empty plate away. “Is Stiles your real name?” 

 

“Nope, just like how Mischief isn’t yours.” 

 

“Then where did Stiles come from?”

 

“My last name is Stil-” Stiles coughed, “uh, Stilowski. So Stiles comes from the… the Stil part.” 

 

“Hey, that means I could be called Stiles too!” 

 

“Sure does,” Stiles smiled at him.

 

The three of them moved to the couch shortly after that, Mischief tucked in the middle. He wasn’t sure why, but he was glad. The two of them made him feel comfy here, happy. 

 

He was glad he got to spent two good days with them. 

 

“Mischief, we need to talk to you about something.” Derek said, looking down at him seriously. It reminded Mischief of the talk they had in Derek’s family garden so he sat up straighter. This was important. 

 

“What?” 

 

“Just… remember what I told you, okay? You aren’t alone. People love you, even when they’re not around to tell you.” Derek said, squeezing Mischief’s neck. 

 

“Okay, Derek.” 

 

“Yeah, and your dad might be a bit strange for a while, after… after your mom passes away.” Stiles said. “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. He’s just grieving too.” 

 

Mischief swallowed. “Okay.” 

 

“You’re going to be heading home now. It’s probably going to be a bit confusing for a while but… you’re going to be okay. Everythings going to be okay.” Derek said. 

 

Mischief frowned. “Okay. My Daddy’s home now?” 

 

“Yeah, buddy, your dad’s going to be there with you the whole time.”

 

“Okay,” Mischief said, smiling at the two of them. He was trying to reassure them, because they looked really worried, but before he could say anything else, purple light was coming down from the ceiling and circling around him. 

 

\-- 

 

“Mischief,” his dad’s voice said. “Hey kiddo, wake up.” 

 

Mischief opened his eyes, confused. He was lying on the leaves, in the backyard of his house. He was lying beside the tire swing. “Daddy?” 

 

“Hey, sorry buddy, I had no idea you had fallen asleep out here.” His dad said, helping him up. “Come on, let’s get you inside. I’ll make you some hot chocolate to warm you up.” 

 

Mischief blinked. “Where’s Stiles? And Derek?” 

 

“Who?” 

 

“The- the friends of yours, I was staying at their house. They look like lumberjacks?” Mischief looked around, confused. His dad chuckled. 

 

“I don’t know anyone named Stiles or Derek, Mischief. That must have been on crazy dream though.” 

 

“A dream?” Mischief turned back to his dad. He was wearing the same thing he had been wearing two days ago… or, just a few hours ago? Everything was getting blurry already. Had that really all been a dream?

 

“Yeah bud, it was just a dream.” 

 

“Oh.” 

 

Mischief took his father's hand and let himself be lead inside. He sat and watched his dad make him hot chocolate, the dream fading with every minute. Except some parts… some parts were sticking. 

 

“Hey, Daddy?” 

 

“Yeah, kid?” 

 

“Stiles is a pretty cool name, don’t you think?” 

 

His dad laughed, “yeah. Stiles sounds pretty cool to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for leading! Leave a kudos and a comment to let me know what you think! :)


End file.
